


You Who Are a Stranger, Though We Have Your Blood

by Bofur1



Series: Pound, Pound, Far Underground [10]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Reunions, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Halls of Mandos, Mother Hen Dori, Pickpockets, Sad Nori, Sweet Ori, aftermath of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 02:03:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1492669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Bofur1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Thorin, Fili, and Kili arrive in the Halls of Aulë, they find themselves face to face with someone almost identical to Nori...but he doesn't even acknowledge them as the Heirs of Durin.</p><p>When Ori, Dori, and Nori arrive in the Halls of Aulë, they find themselves face to face with a past that they didn't know existed...and a father they never knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Who Are a Stranger, Though We Have Your Blood

“No!” Thorin shouted, sitting up and hugging his suddenly chilled form. Staring around with wild eyes, as he realized he was sitting on a cold stone floor.

Looking down at his arms, Thorin saw they were no longer covered in bloody bandages—the skin was scarred but clean and unbroken. Rising unsteadily to his feet, Thorin examined his dark blue tunic and trousers. They weren’t torn anymore either—the previous rips in them weren’t even noticeable.

He was in the Halls of Aulë, Thorin realized suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath. This was confirmed completely by twin voices crying out gleefully, “Uncle Thorin!”

Thorin whirled and, for the first time, didn’t wait for Fíli and Kíli to run to him. Instead he charged toward them, catching them up in a suffocating embrace.

“My boys,” he choked out in a mixture of sorrow and joy. “My boys...”

Fíli and Kíli pried him off after a time that was too short in Thorin’s opinion.

“Welcome to the Halls of Waiting!” Fíli exclaimed proudly.

“And welcome to nice clothes,” Kíli added, grinning as he smoothed down his handsome blue/silver tunic with one hand and gestured to Fíli’s scarlet/gold tunic with the other.

Thorin tried to overcome his emotion and get down to business. “Fíli...Kíli...” Oh, how good it was to say those names without grief! “Have any others of the Company appeared?”

Fíli and Kíli sobered. “We don’t know,” Fíli replied seriously. “We’ve been looking for them for some time now.”

“Then we felt you come,” Kíli cut in, smiling. “We had to greet you of course!”

Thorin smiled freely. “I’m glad you did, but we need to keep searching now. We cannot let them be alone in this new place!”

The king and princes wandered for a while before finding a feasting hall.

“Oh...Dori and Ori will be heartbroken,” Fíli murmured suddenly, pointing toward a Dwarf with auburn star-shaped hair sitting at the seemingly endless dining table.

Thorin’s heart sank but he ventured forward, calling out, “Nori?”

The person jumped. “Oi, you talkin’ to me?” he asked, pulling his pipe out of his mouth.

Kíli and Fíli followed Thorin toward him. “Nori,” Kíli repeated slowly, trying to remind the other Dwarf. “Don’t you know us?”

Thorin halted abruptly as he neared the other Dwarf. True, the hairstyle was identical, but the face wasn’t right. The mouth was thinner and wryer, the nose sharper and more crooked, and the eyes were a pale, striking blue instead of brown.

“You’re not Nori,” Thorin announced sharply.

The stranger laughed long and loud, shaking his head. “As far as I know, I didn’t lose my memory when I lost my life. My name wasn’t ‘Nori’.”

“But...you look so much like him!” Kíli sputtered. “How can you not—”

“Come to think,” the stranger said thoughtfully, taking his boots off the table, “I was goin’ to name my second son Nori. Alas, I never got to meet the lad—barely got a year with my firstborn, in fact!”

“Your firstborn,” Thorin repeated, speaking on a hunch. “You mean...Dori?”

The fellow’s jaw dropped. “You—know him?”

“We all did,” Fíli agreed, grinning.

“So he lived!” the other Dwarf crowed, leaping to his feet and pumping his fists. “Praise the Maker, the Blade-Runners didn’t get him! Of course I would’ve known that if I’d gone to the lookin’-platform more often, but I couldn’t get away from all these amazing meals...” He trailed off, laughing, and bowed slightly. “Fori, son of Vori, at your service, sirs! Tell me, how is my boy?”

“Boys,” Kíli corrected him gently. “Plural.”

Fori gaped at him for several seconds before muttering a word that probably shouldn’t have been said in the Waiting Halls. “Far too long,” he sighed softly, sinking back down in his chair. “I’ve been dead far, far too long.” When he looked up again, his eyes were unnaturally bright. “Tell me about them. Please.”

Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli gladly sat down next to him.

 

Ori panted for breath as he opened his eyes. Just a moment ago he’d been in terrible, terrible pain and darkness. Now he couldn’t feel anything like that. Hesitantly he lifted a hand to see if arrows were still embedded in his chest.

Ori found only warm, silky clothing. Puzzled by this and by his unfamiliar surroundings, Ori sat up and startled. Dwarves who had been on the brink of death had often described the Halls of Waiting as a beautifully wrought, bejeweled stone hall, vaster and grander even than Erabor and Moria.

“It’s true...” he whispered in awe, standing to his feet and stumbling slightly as he ventured forward. Where was everyone? “H-Hello?” he called, tensing as his voice echoed in the silence.

A feasting hall had been described also, Ori recalled. Perhaps everyone was there. Therefore he began walking down the long hall, searching restlessly, wanting to find a familiar face.

When he found the dining hall, Ori stopped in the doorway, gaping at the many, many Dwarves who sat at the table. Mustering up his courage, he called out again, “Hello!”

Everyone fell silent suddenly, turning to study the newcomer with intent eyes. After a long, breathless moment, someone whispered in disbelief, “Ori?”

Ori followed the voice and pressed a hand over his mouth, tears springing unbidden to his eyes. “Fíli! Kíli!” he cried out, running into his best friends’ open arms. They looked exactly the same as they had that fateful day of the Battle.

After fierce, weepy hugs were exchanged, Ori backed up a bit, trying to compose himself. “My King,” he murmured, bowing low before Thorin.

“Ori,” Thorin responded with a nod. “Your beard’s grown in,” he added after a moment with a small smile.

Ori laughed, twirling a strand of said beard. “Aye. Took many a year, but it did.”

“Ori—” Kíli began, but Fíli interrupted him.

“At least you had time to grow it! Mine is going to stay the same,” he sulked, tugging on the braids at either side of his mouth.

“I like it,” Ori replied firmly, cutting Kíli off again.

“But I’m going to stay eighty-two years old forever!” Fíli sighed.

Kíli growled in exasperation and Ori finally noticed. “What is it, Kíli?” he asked, smiling gently.

Kíli squared his shoulders, pleased that he had his attention at last. “There’s someone here you need to meet,” he explained, moving slightly to the side.

Ori’s eyes widened. He took a step forward, trying to understand who was in front of him. “You can’t be Nori...” he said slowly. “So who are you?”

Nori’s lookalike stepped toward him, eyes filled with hope. “Fori,” he whispered. “Your brothers’ father.”

Ori was dumbstruck for five seconds, five seconds in which Fori prayed he would be accepted by this son he had never known. Then, to Fori’s obvious disbelief, Ori squealed in delight and threw his arms around his neck.

“Dori and Nori told me stories,” he cried joyously, squeezing Fori’s neck even tighter. “Stories from our mother! She loved you so much, but I love you _even more!_ ” Upon hearing Fíli and Kíli giggling, Ori released Fori, explaining bashfully, “...You gave me _amazing_ brothers. Thank you.”

The grin that broke out on Fori’s face was definitely something Nori had inherited. “You’re welcome! Oh, here, you must be starvin’! Take some of this.” Hastily he lunged for his plate and held it out.

Ori scanned the pile of meat meticulously and Fori’s expression became puzzled. “What’re you lookin’ for?”

“I’m making sure there’s no green food in between the meats,” Ori explained in all seriousness.

Fori burst out laughing. “Guess we have that in common! Don’t worry, my lad, you won’t see a single leaf on _my_ plate!”

Ori beamed and took the plate, sitting down next to Fori. “So,” Fori burst out, rubbing his hands together. “Tell me, how did you come to my wife?” He’d already learned the story from Fíli and Kíli, but he wanted to hear it from Ori’s mouth.

Swallowing his rather large bite of meat, Ori explained, “Technically, I’m your sister-son. I was adopted by Ama from her brother, Haylan, who...well, who didn’t want me.”

“I can’t imagine anyone who wouldn’t want you,” Fori murmured proudly. Ori colored deeply but grinned back.

 

Why was his bed suddenly so hard and cold? Dori wondered as he sat up. Wait... _cold_. He could feel cold, Dori realized, which meant that his fever had broken! Had he finally recovered?

Dori studied the halls surrounding him in confusion before his jaw dropped in astonished realization. He had actually _died_?! Leaping to his feet, Dori ran, bellowing.

“Ori! Ori, where are you?!” If this was the Waiting Hall, Ori had to be here! Dori screeched to a stop in front of a feasting hall, desperately scanning the crowd of Dwarves.

“Ori!” he shouted again, starting to panic. The name echoed, silencing the Dwarves like a wave. Dori fidgeted in the doorway as all eyes turned to him.

Then the beautiful voice he’d not heard in too many years cried ecstatically from afar, “Dori!”

Dori burst into tears as he caught his youngest brother in a crushing embrace. “My brother, my baby brother!” he sobbed out, not even caring who was watching. “I missed you so much, more than you can imagine!”

“I missed you too,” Ori whispered, unable to speak any louder because the breath was being crushed out of him. When he tried to pull away slightly, Dori only tightened the embrace.

“Just let me hold you,” Dori pleaded, gathering up as much of Ori’s form in his arms as possible until he was practically cradling him like a baby. “Please...”

When Ori started coughing a bit, Dori set him on his feet, brushing down first Ori’s clothing and hair and then his own, gulping in the rest of his tears.

“Are you calm now?” Ori laughed gently. At Dori’s quick nod, Ori took his hand. “Then c’mon, there’s someone you need to meet.”

Dori greeted the Durin Heirs enthusiastically, pumping their hands up and down. Ori looked on with a smile and when Dori turned back to him, he spoke.

“Dori...here’s someone you’ve met before. Do you recognize him?” The Dwarf Ori had been hiding stood slowly, letting Dori look him up and down.

Dori searched his recollections, reaching further and further back, until—

The eldest Ri brother reached out, gasping, “...Adad?”

Dori was suddenly yanked into his father’s arms with a strength that matched his own. He instantly brought his arms up to return Fori’s embrace.

“Adad,” Dori repeated breathlessly. “My father!”

“My son!” Fori boomed back, squeezing him so hard he lifted Dori off his feet. Dori kicked the air, squeaking a little, which made Fori drop him. “Right, then, lad, let me look at you,” Fori requested, patting him down. “Haven’t seen you since you were a year-old infant! My, a fine one, you are!”

Dori laughed, pushing away Fori’s hands. “Oh, I’m not much...”

“Oi!” Fori scolded. “None of that! Any son of mine, even adopted—” Here he slung an arm around Ori’s shoulders. “—is a fine example of the Ri line! Cor, you’re both just...brilliant! Here, sit down.”

Dori sank down into the offered chair, wondering whether or not he should laugh or cry. He ended up doing both, burying his face in his hands. Fori rubbed his shoulder comfortingly.

“It’s alright, lad. Death shock—happens to the best of us.”

As Fori sat across from him, Dori murmured, “When...when someone I knew lost a parent, I couldn’t honestly say I understood. When I lost you, I lost something...intangible—an idea, a dream, a whisper of a parent.”

Fori’s face became dark and somber as Dori spoke and he knew he needed to brighten him up again.

“...Now I understand,” Dori finished with a woeful smile. “I wish I’d had the time to know you.”

Fori leaned forward, shaking Dori’s hand and chuckling wryly. “Well, Dori, if you’re going to learn anythin’ about me, this is the place to ask! We’ve got all the time we need!”

Dori laughed too. “That we do. Tell me what you were like back then! Tell me everything!”

 

Nori stood slowly, hugging his bladed-quarterstaff to reassure himself that he was still armed. Once realization sunk in, Nori cursed under his breath without ire.

“Bloody rock. I survive encounters with every race of Middle Earth—literally _every race_. Then I trip over a bloody rock in the road, fall flat on me head and die! _Pitiful_ way to go...”

Using his quarterstaff as a walking stick, Nori explored the Waiting Hall, seeking out the spirits of friends. “Poor Bof’,” he murmured as he walked. “He must be goin’ insane in this place without me. Where is that lug anyway? Likely with the others. Of course he’d start the feastin’ without me...”

As though on cue the scent of food reached Nori’s nose, reminding him that he’d slowly been starving to death on the road. Eagerly he followed the smell, striding into a dining room that was far larger than Nori would have thought. His braided eyebrows rose in surprise when he saw his best friend dancing on top of the gigantic table, singing an old song of Middle Earth.

“ _...An’ up an’ down he saws his bow, now squeakin’_ —Nori?!”

Nori gave a hesitant little wave and Bofur leapt off the table, screaming gleefully as he tackled him. Nori laughed for the first time in months, flipping Bofur off of him and pinning him easily.

“Good to see you, Bof’,” he greeted him, bumping heads with the Broadbeam.

“Ye certainly took a long time comin’!” Bofur snapped, pushing him off. “Yer brothers have been whinging fer ages now!”

Nori’s heart and throat clenched. “My...brothers?” he repeated in a whisper.

Bofur laughed. “O’course! Ye didn’t forget they’d be here, did ye?”

Nori sensed a presence above him and raised his head. Dori and Ori each took one of his arms and lifted him to his feet, watching him hopefully. Nori met their eyes, unable to keep tears from welling in his own.

“I love you,” he whispered, pulling them closer. “I love you and I never got to tell you.”

“We always knew,” Dori replied tenderly, rubbing his back as he started the inevitable shaking. Ori nodded in agreement, clinging to fistfuls of Nori’s tunic.

Nori hiccupped out some kind of unintelligible words, choking on his sobs and laughter. When he was able to look up again without blurriness, he thought for a half a moment he was looking in a mirror.

“Hello, Adad. I’m Nori. Get yourself over here,” he ordered hoarsely, beckoning for him to join the embrace. Fori shook his head and took a step back.

“Nope. This moment’s for you and your brothers,” he declared.

“It’s for family,” Nori insisted. “Stop bein’ so stubborn and get over here!”

Fori rolled his eyes, but Dori and Ori had grabbed him before he could refuse again. Nori and Fori bumped heads as they were pulled together.

“I hear from your brothers that you were a great thief,” Fori mused, looking his son up and down.

“Tras always said the same about you,” Nori replied.

Fori’s eyes lit up at the familiar name. “How is the ol’ bugger, eh? Still head man?”

“Yep! And he _is_ old now, let me tell you...”

Dori sighed deeply. “Crime-lord business?”

Nori and Fori nodded, grinning in unison. Dori threw up his hands.

“Like father, like son. I’ll be at the table.” He and Ori left, shaking their heads at their kin’s behavior.

“Aw, he’s just a wet sod,” Nori explained, shrugging to his father.

Fori nodded, rubbing Nori’s shoulder affectionately. “Never could get into the family business, could he? Well, c’mon, let’s not let him sulk.” Fori started to follow his two other sons and then paused, turning slightly back toward Nori. “By the way, Nori, my lad, thanks for lettin’ me borrow this.” So saying, he shoved the end of Nori’s pipe between his teeth and sauntered off, leaving Nori to gape after him and Bofur to stifle his giggles.

As soon as he’d processed his shock, Nori set his jaw and folded his arms over his chest. It seemed he had some competition for the title of ‘master thief’!

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, Nori, but Fori is probably going to out-steal you every time XD


End file.
